The Communist
by Mother Nature's Daughter
Summary: Gibbs makes his team, along with Ducky and Abby, play the “American or Communist” game. Everyone’s paranoid. Everyone’s a suspect. Can the team pick out the commie or will they all be destroyed? Four part short story, very silly. :D Now complete!
1. Part One

**Author's Note:** Yay, my first NCIS fic. :) It's pretty pointless, but hopefully fun. If it's a little roughly OOC, I apologise; I didn't get it beta'd by someone who's written NCIS before. It's four chapters long, and the second one should be up in about a week, m'kay? Hope you like this, y'all! Remember to please leave a comment when you've read this, yeah? Tell me how I'm doin'!

**Disclaimer:** If I could, I would. But I can't. And I don't. And I never will. I do have a lizard named Ducky though, because he's so adorkable and I wanted one of my very own. :)

* * *

**"The Communist"**

**Part One**

"Bored…bored…_boooooooring_," said the voice of NCIS agent Anthony DiNizzo; he sat at his desk with his head down, resting on the pillow his folded arms made. His eyes were closed and between every word he would draw a deep breath and sigh pitifully. "Bored…bored…_booooooooooooring_. Bored…bored… _Boooor_—"

"_Enough_!" Ziva David snapped viciously. She didn't even glance his way, but her tone was laced with annoyance as she said, "We get it, Tony. You are bored."

Tony raised his head up and looked over to the spot where she sat at her desk. "Oh, and I suppose you'll tell me you're not absolutely bored out of your mind right now?"

"I am more curious than bored, Tony."

"Curious?" The smooth-talking agent spun around in his swiveling chair once before facing his partner again. "About what?"

"The reason why Gibbs will not let us go home," Ziva replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "There is absolutely no reason for us to be here, and yet he will not let us leave."

"She's right, you know," another agent, Tim McGee, said. He finished whatever he had been doing on his computer and saved it before continuing: "We're not even working on a case at the moment." He looked at his team members once before looking down to straighten his dark red tie.

Tony looked thoughtful. "I haven't really been thinking about that," he admitted. "So why _did_ Gibbs tell us not to leave?"

"Maybe he has something important to tell us. Some major development in something," McGee suggested.

Ziva shook her head. "Whatever it is, it can not be very important, or he would have already said something. But instead he just took off and left us waiting here for nearly half an hour." She sighed in frustration and wrapped her red jacket tighter around her.

"I think he's got something planned for us," Tony said almost happily, "something _really_ horrible that'll test our skills and intelligence as an agent and—"

"For once, DiNizzo, you're actually not completely wrong," the voice of Leroy Jethro Gibbs interrupted. All three agents jumped out of their chairs, startled. None of them had noticed their boss approaching until he was already beside them.

Gibbs settled himself at his own desk and beckoned his team closer. When they were all standing in front of him, they noticed he was carrying, not his signature cup of coffee, but instead a small plastic jar filled with little pieces of folded white paper.

"Umm, boss," McGee said, gesturing to the jar, "what is that?"

"Wait," was all Gibbs said, not even looking at him. He was eyeing the elevator expectantly. There was a long moment of awkward silence, and then the elevator doors opened and the NCIS forensic scientist, Abby, and their autopsy doctor, Ducky Mallard, stepped out.

"I believe you wanted to see us, Jethro," Ducky said.

"I did, Duck."

"So what's up?" Abby asked, her voice dripping curiosity. She asked no more questions, however, when Gibbs just smiled and handed her the 'Cafe-Pow' drink he was holding, having got it just for her. "Thanks!" she said happily, taking a long drink from it.

McGee looked from Abby to Ducky. "Do _you_ guys know what's going on here?" he asked.

Abby shook her head and Ducky said, "I haven't the faintest idea." The doctor hummed in possible amusement and met his old friend's gaze. "Are you going to tell us what this is about, Jethro?"

"Yep," Gibbs replied.

There was a silence, where everyone seemed to be waiting for Gibbs to continue. He, however, didn't look like he was ready to go on anytime soon. Tony was the first to speak up:

"Uh…when, boss?"

"Right now." Gibbs picked up the jar McGee had asked about earlier. "You five," he began, "are going to play a game."

Another silence, this one because everyone had frozen in astonishment. "A game, Gibbs?" Ziva asked hesitantly, as if she were afraid she hadn't heard it right.

"That's right."

Abby set down her drink and clapped her hands once in excitement. "Awesome!" She grinned. "What kind of game?"

"I like to call it 'The Communist' game," Gibbs said. Someone might have asked another question here, but he went on before anyone could: "It's simple enough, for anyone who has any brains. In this jar"—he held it up again—"there are five slips of paper. Four of them have the word 'American' on it. The fifth reads 'communist'."

Abby interrupted: "I think I played this game in high school. Everyone draws from the jar, one by one, and the Americans have to try to find the communist. The commie has to try to fool everyone into thinking they're an American, right?"

Gibbs smiled. "You got it, Abbs," he said.

Ducky appeared to be deep in thought. "That's very interesting," he said. No one said anything in response, but Tony looked to be thinking just as hard as Ducky.

"And we're doing this _why_?" he asked.

Gibbs' smile disappeared. "Because I told you to, DiNizzo. You got a problem with that?"

Agent DiNizzo got that deer in the headlights look. "Um—not at all, boss…sir… It sounds like a great idea." He smiled hopefully, pointedly ignoring Ziva's snicker.

"I'm trying to remember," Abby said, probably to keep Tony from getting into any more trouble. "How do you play this again?"

"Some of the slips of paper have clues," Gibbs said. "Some of the clues lead to the name of the communist, and the others—"

"When you say 'the name of the communist'," McGee said, and if he was at all nervous about interrupting his boss he tried not to show it; "are you saying you already know who's going to draw what?"

"Yeah, I do, McGee," Gibbs replied, probably sound more cross than he really was. Since McGee—and everyone else, for that matter—still looked confused, he added: "I'm taking each of you aside one by one and _giving_ you a paper. I've already decided who's going to be the communist—for a certain reason."

"Okay," Ducky said, "and the clues that don't lead to the name of the communist; what do they lead to?"

"A blacklist paper," Gibbs answered shortly.

"Blacklist," Abby said, "that's where you accuse someone of being a communist, right? And even if they're not one, they're out of the game, yeah?"

Gibbs nodded. "Now can we get on with it?" He said it like a question, but it wasn't really one of at all; he was telling everyone he was moving on. He stood up, the jar of papers in his hand. "Abby, you're first."

Abby followed him back behind the stairs, out of sight. She returned a moment later, her expression carefully guarded so as to not give anything away.

"Where is your paper?" Ziva asked, eyeing her empty hands.

"Gibbs keeps them all," Abby answered shortly. She sat down in one of the chairs and said, "He wants you next, McGee."

McGee stood up and went back behind the stairs. When he returned, everyone eyed him just the way they had Abby. "So, what are you?" Tony asked eagerly, studying McGee's expression carefully.

"American," the other agent replied—what everyone's going to say no matter what, obviously. He met Tony's gaze and then nodded at him "You're next," he said.

When Tony came back, Ziva shot one look at his face—as expressionless as everyone else's was—and shouted, "Communist!"

"There's where you're wrong, Zee-_vah_," Tony said smoothly. He sat down at his desk and spun around in his chair a couple of times. "Your turn," he told his partner.

Ziva left and returned shortly, and Ducky went. After Ducky had drawn, Gibbs came back over and sat at his desk.

"You have an hour to find the clues," he said to all of them. "At the end of the hour, you come back and—this is the most important part—you have to form an alliance with at least one other player. And you better be darn certain that you're not in an alliance with the communist."

"What if you are, though?" Tony asked.

"Then the communist has successfully fooled you and gained access to important military secrets. You're a failure to your country and an embarrassment to federal agents." By the serious tone Gibbs spoke with, this could have been way more than a game. Tony gulped.

Gibbs looked at each person individually. "Any more questions?" Everyone shook their heads no, looking uneasy under the silver-haired agent's stare.

"Then why are still standing here?" Gibbs demanded. "_Go_!"


	2. Part Two

**Author's Note: **This kinda of long-ish, but the next one I a bit short (if I remember correctly!), so if your eyes get a little sore (XP), remember it won't always be like this! Or maybe you like long? Who knows…

**Disclaimer:** -shoves the NCIS cast into her closest and closes the door before turning to face everyone- Don't look at me like that. They're mine, all mine. Well... I'm borrowing them. But I'm giving them back. Sometime. Eventually. LOOK, I DIDN'T STEAL THEM, OKAY?!

_I love all my reviewers! Thank you guys so much; I can't believe I got so many reviews for one chapter! Y'all are amazing! :D_

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**"The Communist" **

**Part Two**

As soon as Gibbs barked the order to go, the five other people in the room literally _jump_-started, racing off in all different directions: McGee headed for the stairs that would lead to the director's office; Ziva and Ducky both headed for the elevators; and Tony and Abby both stood still, looking thoughtful.

The race between Ziva and Ducky to get to the elevator first might have been bad, but just then Tony called out: "No, wait! Ducky! Could you come back here?" He took a hesitant step forward, and Ducky stopped to look back at him. Ziva continued on to the elevator.

"I need to talk to you," Tony said pleadingly. Ducky gave a long sigh and looked in the direction of the elevator doors, but then he nodded.

"All right," the elderly doctor said, "come along with me." The two went off together where they couldn't be overhead or spied on.

Abby watched everyone disappear, wondering around idly in her own thoughts; she watched Gibbs watch everyone go, and then sit back down at his desk to wait. She tried to concentrate on her clue.

_Find the one person in the building smarter than special agent Gibbs._

"Shoot," Abby muttered. How unhelpful was a clue like that? Smarter _how_? She and McGee were both better with technology and computers; Ducky knew more about the anatomy and the human mind; Ziva was scary-good at inflicting pain and violence, especially in interrogations; Director Sheppard was the closest thing he had to a boss—"But does that make her smarter?" Abby murmured quietly—and Tony was…well, Tony…

Really, though, none of them—herself included—really compared to Gibbs. _This really sucks,_ Abby thought. She didn't think she could solve her clue. Was anyone _really_ smarter than Gibbs?

But wait…

"Oh!" Abby gasped as a thought occurred to her. Maybe, she thought, just maybe. She turned around and ran back the way she'd come. "Gibbs!" she said in a whisper-scream, sliding to a standstill in front of his desk.

"Hello, Abby," he said casually, looking up at her without blinking. "What can I do for you?"

The gothic scientist was breathing heavy from excitement. She looked over both shoulders to make sure no one was around that might be listening, then whirled around. "My clue—'find the one person smarter than agent Gibbs'," she began, talking quickly. "Well, I was thinking about it, and I was kind of wondering if there was anyone here _actually_ smarter than you. You know, like maybe the clue was just saying there was someone to throw me off, but really the answer was you, that you were the only person smarter than you—what?"

He was laughing at her.

"Good work, Abbs," he said, still smiling slightly. He reached into his desk drawer and handed her a folded piece of paper. One look at it and Abby could tell she had the paper that allowed her to blacklist any one person in the game.

"_Woah_." She looked down at the paper in her hands and then looked up at Gibbs. "So that really was the answer, then? That no one's smarter than _special agent Gibbs…_" Abby shook her head in disbelief, pocketing the paper. "Big-headed, much?"

Gibbs just smiled.

-o0o-

Safely alone in the elevator, Ziva ran through her clue one more time in her head: _to help find the red, pay a visit to the dead. _She knew that a "red" was another name for the communist, but was that all it meant? Perhaps the communist was wearing red… As this thought occurred to her, she immediately tore off the red jacket she'd been wearing overtop her shirt.

"I would not want to be mistaken for a communist," she murmured to herself. She balled the jacket up and planned to hide it somewhere in autopsy when she got there until the game ended. So, the communist may or may not be wearing red; and after that, the rest of the clue was relatively easy—_pay a visit to the dead_ had to mean the autopsy room. The clue must be there.

The elevator doors made a slight _ding!_ sound and opened, and Ziva stepped out. She had been assuming that it would be empty, with Ducky upstairs, but she hadn't realized Jimmy Palmer, Ducky's assistant, had yet to go home.

"Jimmy," Ziva said breathlessly, surprised. "I did not realize you were still here."

The young man looked up from whatever he'd been doing and smiled. "Yeah, I'm still here. No real reason to stay, but no real reason to go home either. Can I help you with something? Dr. Mallard's upstairs, if you—"

"No, no, I am perfectly aware of where Ducky is," Ziva interrupted. "And as a matter of fact, I could use your help. Gibbs has all of us…looking for something. I think it is down here. Would you know where it would be?"

Jimmy looked all around him. "What are we looking for?"

"A piece of paper, with a name on it, I think." Ziva scanned all four of the walls to make sure it wasn't taped somewhere in plain sight, where no one might look. They were all bare. She took a step farther inside the room, looking all about her helplessly.

"Would it be _this _piece of paper, maybe?" Jimmy reached down into the pocket of his lab coat and pulled it out of his pocket, waving it in the air tauntingly.

Ziva raced over to him. "Did Gibbs give you that? For the game?"

"Yep," Jimmy said.

"Well, hand it over, then." He raised his eyebrows at her, and Ziva added, "Please?" Smiling, Jimmy placed into her hand.

"You got _sooooo_ lucky, finding this first." He laughed.

Ziva smirked. "I know. Because now I know who the communist is." She pocketed the paper and started to leave, but an afterthought stopped her. "Jimmy, can I hide this down here so no one sees I have it?" She held up her red jacket.

"Sure. Just put it…er, over there with my stuff. So everyone will think it's mine if they come in. I hope it doesn't look _too_ feminine for that…." He eyed the jacket warily as Ziva threw it down and promised to be back for it later.

"Thanks. _Oh_!" she said, another thought popping into her mind making her pause and turn back around; "and if anyone else comes down here looking for something, please do not tell them I found the paper or that you had it, okay? Please?"

Jimmy nodded willingly. "No problem. I won't tell a soul."

"Thank you so much!" With a final smile, Ziva left and headed back up. Once more in the safety of the elevator, she pulled out the paper and read it. She wasn't surprised by the name; but she decided she'd keep this to herself, and just make sure she wasn't in an alliance with the communist.

On her way out of the elevator, she met Tony and Ducky getting ready to get in. They looked suspiciously at each other, and then Tony asked, "Did you find anything?"

Ziva shook her head and sighed as if she were very disappointed. "No," she lied, "this is so frustrating!"

-o0o-

McGee hated his clue. It didn't make any sense at all! _Find the one person in the building smarter than special agent Gibbs._ What the heck did that mean—who was he supposed to be looking for? He couldn't think of anyone just by thinking about who was smarter than Gibbs, so he tried to think about it scientifically: it couldn't be anyone _in_ the game; they wouldn't have the clue. But everyone but Gibbs was in the game, and he couldn't be smarter than himself.

Wait a minute! The director wasn't in the game! McGee didn't stop to think whether or not she was smarter than Gibbs, only ran off towards her office. "Director!" he called out, knocking on her door.

"McGee?" Jen Sheppard opened the door to office and let him in, looking surprised. "What is it?"

McGee looked all around her office, but didn't dare actually search. He didn't see anything immediately, but he supposed something could be hidden under something. Or maybe the director had it. He turned to face her. "Did Gibbs give you anything earlier? Like a piece of paper?"

"No, I don't think so," Jen answered slowly. "Why, what's this about?"

"A game… Gibbs is making us play a game. I thought maybe you had the clue," McGee said, shifting awkwardly. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. The director just looked at him strangely. McGee continued, "Did he ask permission to hide something in here, maybe?"

Jen gave him a small smile. "Do you really think he would ask permission if he had?"

"Good point." McGee looked all around him again, more out of a reflex than actually looking for something. "So can I look for it in your office?"

The director's smile grew bigger. "I don't think so, agent McGee. I really don't think your paper is in here, I'm sorry. What even made you think it was in here?"

"There was a clue on my paper."

"What does it say?"

McGee cleared his throat uncomfortably; he wasn't actually sure what made him feel so embarrassed, but right now he just wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. "Find the one person in the building smarter than Gibbs."

Jen laughed and McGee started to relax a little. "And you thought of me? I'm flattered, McGee. But if that's what the clue really says, then I'm positive your clue isn't here."

-o0o-

"_CONGRATULATIONS, YOU ARE NOT A COMMUNIST."_

Tony wished more than anything he still had that little slip of paper Gibbs had handed him, just so he could rip it to shreds. What sort of lame "clue" was that?! Gibbs had said some papers had helpful clues and others didn't…but that was a load of crap. What good could he do with that? So he wasn't a commie; big deal! He knew that when he saw "AMERICAN" written on his paper…

The only thing he could hope to do is pair up with someone and work out their clue. But who to team up with? Any one of the other four could be the communist…and he didn't want to associate with them. He soon realized he had no choice, however, and so on a whim he called out to Ducky—if he was lucky, he'd be an American, and Ducky would believe him when he said he was one as well.

Ducky turned away from the elevator and they walked off a bit on their own. "What can I do for you, Anthony?" the elderly doctor asked.

"I…want to help you figure out your clue. If you're an American, I mean," Tony said.

"I most certainly am an American. How can I be sure you're one?"

"Ducky, I didn't have a clue on my paper. That's why I'm doing this—why else would I team up with a potential commie? But I have no choice; all my paper said was 'congratulations, you are not a communist'." Tony's brows furrowed and he kicked at the air moodily.

He was well aware of the older man study him, analyzing his body language and movement. Surely Ducky would be able to see he was telling the truth? He would let him work with him, he had to—or else Tony was screwed.

After a long moment, Ducky sighed. "Well…all right," he said, and Tony brightened. "I suppose you can take a look at my clue. It's fairly easy, however; 'to help find the red, pay a visit to the dead'."

"The autopsy room," Tony said automatically.

Ducky nodded. "Exactly right. But I think there's more that can be taken from that clue—for example, 'help find the red'. A red is a communist, but could it not mean something else?"

"Like what?"

"Gibbs said he'd picked out who was to be the communist for a certain reason. Maybe he picked someone _literally_ wearing red today." Neither of the men acknowledged it, but they both scanned the other as quickly as possible.

"Great idea!" Tony said once it had been established neither were donning any red clothing. "Let's go see what everyone's wearing," he suggested, and the two of them went back they way they'd come. Ziva was already long gone, but Abby was musing alone in a corner. Her attire was the gothic style she normally wore; but nothing was red.

"Ah," Ducky whispered, and pointed something out to Tony. "Timothy's tie." DiNizzo looked over to where McGee was just knocking on the director's office. Before he went in, they saw his dark red tie.

Tony and Ducky exchanged looks. "It's possible," Tony said.

"Well, let's definitely remember that. Shall we go down to the autopsy room now?"

"Right behind you." Tony followed Ducky to the elevators, where they met Ziva just coming up—Tony looked her up and down and saw she wasn't wearing red either. She also said she hadn't found anything, which gave them hope—maybe whatever they were looking for down there was still there.

They exited the elevators and Ducky greeted his assistant with, "Mr. Palmer, Tony and I are looking for a paper and we believe it to be down here. Can you help us?"

Jimmy looked up once and met his gaze, then carefully lowered his gaze, feigning preoccupation. "I'm sorry, doctor, but I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "I don't know where any paper is."

"Did Ziva come down here?" Tony asked him.

Jimmy held their gazes this time. "Yeah, she was. She was looking for a paper, too, but she couldn't find it. I don't think it's down here, sorry."

"But it has to be!" Tony protested.

Jimmy shrugged. "Just look around for it, that's probably the best you can do. Good luck," he said, and went back to work.

"We only have a few minutes," Ducky said, with a quick glance at the wall clock. Their hour was almost up, and soon they would have to be back upstairs to form an alliance. "We'll search quickly."

They looked all around and under the tables of the room; Tony searched all the corners where a small piece of paper could be taped, and Ducky went through all the drawers in the desks. They found nothing.

"This is hopeless," Tony said, "we'll never find it in time now." He ran a hand through his hair and blew through his lips. "I give up."

"Giving up is never the thing to do," Ducky disagreed, "but in this case we'll have to make an exception. Our hour is up; we have to get back up to Gibbs now."

"Sorry you didn't have more luck, Dr. Mallard," Jimmy said sincerely, standing off to the side near his own bags and jacket. "Good luck with your alliance!" They nodded their heads in agreement and left.

"_DiNizzo_!" Gibbs barked before the two could even get out of the elevator; Tony cringed. "Glad you could finally join us." Peering past him, Tony could see that they clearly weren't the last here—McGee hadn't even got back yet. Why was Gibbs scolding him then?

"Hey, Duck," Gibbs greeted his friend casually, kindly even; he caught Tony's eye and looked slightly smug at the younger agent's infuriated expression at this unfair treatment. While Ducky stayed behind with Gibbs, Tony went to sit next to Ziva and Abby, silently muttering curses.

"So are you the commie, Tony?" Abby asked as soon as he sat down, leaning towards him and narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

Tony rolled his eyes, remembering his dud clue. "Hardly. But, you know, what about Ziva?" He turned to his partner and said accusingly, "COMMIE!"

Ziva whacked his shoulder. "Stop accusing me to get the attention off of yourself. That is what all communists would do."

"You would know, wouldn't you, Zee-_vah_?" Tony popped the 'vah' in her name in that infuriating way of his. Ziva scowled and opened her mouth to reply, but just then McGee came out of the director's office, looking disappointed, and Gibbs beckoned them all over to his desk.

"Get over here," he ordered. Everyone gathered around close as he continued, "This is the most important part of the game. Even if you found your clue, it would mean nothing if you pair yourself with the communist. You must be in an alliance of at least two." He paused abruptly then said: "Five minutes to group together, go."


	3. Part Three

**Author's Note:** Only one part after this! How will it end?! (I know. The suspense isn't really killing me either.) And thanks again to everyone who has reviewed; it makes me feel so happy. :)

**Disclaimer:** Sorry, but if I had in any way any sort of control of NCIS, I WOULD NOT HAVE ENDED THE FINALE IN SUCH A CRUEL WAY!! But I will say no more, for fear of spoiling it for anyone who hasn't seen it yet (and if you haven't, why not??).

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**Part Three**

Everyone studied each other warily; sizing their opponents up, as if studying their strengths and weaknesses like two mutts in a dogfight. Then Tony and Ducky, in some sort of unspoken agreement and mutual trust, backed away from the group and were the first two in their alliance.

When those two had gone off together, Ziva turned to Abby. "Look me in the eye and tell me you are not a communist," she said, her black eyes meeting Abby's own seriously. Abby returned the stare, unblinking.

"I am not a commie," she vowed, never flicking her eyes away.

This seemed to be enough for Ziva and she smiled. "Well, Abby," she said, "shall we be in an alliance together?"

"Are _you_ a commie?" Abby asked suspiciously; whether real or fake, Ziva couldn't tell. But she wasn't nervous; she met Abby's eyes again levelly.

"I am not." Her tone was calm and she didn't shrink away from Abby's gaze as the gothic scientist studied her. "So?" she prompted. Abby smiled.

"Sure, why not? And if we are in an alliance," she stepped closer and lowered her voice to a whisper, "then let me fill you in: I found the blacklist paper."

Ziva's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Well, in that case, my clue might be of use to you." She didn't tell Abby that she had found the name of the communist (it didn't matter as long as Ziva wasn't in an alliance with them), but she did say:

"It said, 'to help find the red, pay a visit to the dead'. Judging by the first part of the clue, I think that the communist, or the 'red', will be wearing red today." This bit of information, Ziva assumed, was what kept Abby from asking about the "visit the dead" bit.

Instead, both women looked over at the same time to stare at McGee's dark red tie.

"He can't be in an alliance with us," Abby said, "just to be sure. Should I blacklist him?"

"It is up to you," Ziva replied.

Abby scratched her chin with exaggerated thoughtfulness. "I think we should tell Tony and Ducky, so they don't get in an alliance with him. No one else is wearing red, so if your clue's correct, he has to be the communist, right?"

Ziva shrugged. "Makes sense to me. Let's go warn them."

They walked over to where Tony and Ducky were sitting and took a seat beside them. Abby explained Ziva's clue and what she thought it meant. "I'm not so sure McGee's an American," she concluded. Tony and Ducky nodded.

"We were already thinking that, Abigail," Ducky agreed.

Tony smiled, somewhat evilly. "We weren't going to let McGeek in our alliance in the first place," he informed them all.

Surprisingly everyone, Abby suddenly looked sad.

"Aww!" she said, rushing over to give McGee a hug. He'd been standing off alone, observing everyone before deciding who to form an alliance with. Abby's hug startled him a bit, and his confusion grew when she said, "I'm really sorry, McGee. It's nothing personal, okay? I still love you…just like I love puppies!"

She pulled back and smiled; McGee raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about, Abby?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to blacklist you, McGee," Abby said solemnly, pulling the paper giving her that right out of her pocket officially. "Like I said, nothing personal." She offered him a small smile.

McGee looked at everyone surrounding him. "Bu-bu-bu—_what?_ No!" he protested. "I'm an American, not a communist! You can't blacklist me! _I'm an American_!"

"Sure you are," Tony said.

McGee scoffed. "Unbelievable," he muttered, and sat down at his desk, silently sulking. It just wasn't right. Why did things like this always happen to _him_?

"One minute left," Gibbs informed them all, not even looking at his team, but at the clock. Ducky and Tony exchanged a look. Tony raised an eyebrow in a silent question, and Ducky nodded.

Ziva and Abby looked over at each other, wondering what the men's wordless exchange had meant.

"Ziva, Abby," Ducky said, "would you two like to merge into one big alliance with us? I'm almost certain that Timothy was the communist, so there should be no danger to us combining."

McGee scoffed again, but the others ignored him.

"Thirty seconds," Gibbs said. "Hurry it up."

Abby and Ziva looked at each other a second time. Then Abby said, "Sure, why not? One big, unstoppable _American_ alliance!" She high-fived all of them.

"Time's up," Gibbs announced, standing to his feet and walking in a circle around the four non-blacklisted players of his little game. He studied them all with a small smile, and then said: "Communist. Stand up."


	4. Part Four

**Author's Note:** This is it, the last part! —cries— It went by so quickly… I drew it out as long as I could without making update insanely far apart. And I didn't want you all to lose interest in the story, either!

**Final Disclaimer:** —sniff— I'm not crying because I don't own NCIS. I'm crying because the Director's in this chapter (it was written before the finale, remember)…Jenny…—sniff—

**Another Author's Note: **Review this last bit! I want to know if the last part lived up to the previous, if it satisfied you, how you enjoyed the story overall, what you thought of this line or that line, and most of all… (I didn't try to hide it all that much), _Did you know who the commie was before they stood up?!_

**

* * *

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"The Communist"

**Part Four**

There was a long, dramatic pause where everyone held their breath and waited. Then, many things happened at once: the director's door opened, the elevator dinged, and two separate voices shouted: "Hold on!" and, "Wait a minute!"

The NCIS team, plus Abby and Ducky, were suddenly joined by Jimmy Palmer coming from one direction and Jen Sheppard from the opposite. "Have you revealed the communist yet?" Jimmy asked. Gibbs shook his head.

"And it's killing us!" Tony shouted. "Come on, Gibbs! Who is it?"

Gibbs smiled. "All right. Communist, stand up," he repeated.

There was another agonizing wait. Everyone bit their lips or hooked their fingers together or jiggled their feet, all nervous, none daring to breathe. And then, the communist stood up. Not McGee, like everyone had expected—he truly was an American—no, the person who stood up, the communist, was someone else entirely…

…Ziva David.

"EURGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The three people in the alliance all said at the same time; it was a strange noise, somewhere between a gasp, a scream, and a really loud "OH!"

"How could you, Ziva?!" Abby said, as if she were hurt or angry. "I trusted you!"

"HA!" McGee shouted. "Serves you all right. I told you I wasn't the communist."

Abby looked at him guiltily. "Sorry, McGee," she said genuinely. She turned to the traitor and said, "I was bamboozled!" She narrowed her eyes angrily.

Ziva just smiled and handed the paper previously in her pocket to Gibbs. "It is the name of the communist," she announced, looking around the room. "My name." She smirked.

Tony and Ducky looked at each other. "You found that downstairs, didn't you?" DiNizzo accused.

"Yes," Ziva said, smug. "Jimmy had it, actually."

Everyone stared at him, and he waved sheepishly. Ducky narrowed his eyes. "My own assistant," he murmured.

"Sorry, Doctor," he said, smiling. He turned to Ziva. "Oh, and I brought this back up to you." He handed her the jacket he'd been holding.

Tony, Ducky, and Abby all stood up, shouting. "UGHHHHHHHHHH!" Abby sputtered. "Your jacket's red!"

"The communist was wearing red," Ducky said.

"That's right, Duck," Gibbs said. He seemed amused. "And none of you remembered that Ziva was wearing a red jacket when the game started. You didn't even notice when she took it off."

The team had the decency to look ashamed for all of two seconds. Then: "You conniving little dirtbag," Tony said, offended. "I can't believe you!"

Ziva turned to him, full of herself at the moment. "Get off yourself, DiNizzo," she said, "you are just upset because I beat you."

"The expression is get _over_ yourself," Tony corrected, then said, "and no! I will not just get over it, you lying little traitor!"

Ziva rolled her eyes and, McGee, who had been sitting looking sullen in his chair, cleared his throat and crossed his arms, looking deeply offended. "You all still owe me an apology. Just because my tie was red didn't make me the communist! That was just an unfortunate coincidence for me, obviously."

"But Gibbs always said he didn't believe in coincidences! He said they didn't exist. And then we all get fooled by a bloody coincidence." Abby scoffed. "This really bites," she complained.

"At least you figured out my clue," Gibbs reminded her helpfully. "McGee never did."

McGee blushed a deep scarlet, and the director suddenly started laughing. "Oh, yes! Jethro, I'll have you know he came to me to about that. Thought maybe I was the answer and that I had the clue."

Gibbs laughed. "That's a good one," he said with the closest thing he'd ever made to a snicker. Abby opened her mouth in shock at this announcement and then giggled.

"What?" Jimmy asked. "What did the clue say?"

McGee kept his mouth shut and shook his head. "Nothing important," he said. Abby rolled her eyes at him and shoved him playfully, since she was close enough to do so.

"It's okay, McGee," she sympathized. "It was a hard one. It said to find the one person in the building smarter than Gibbs," she announced to the room.

Everyone started laughing; then Tony asked, "What was the answer?"

"No one!" Abby chirped, raising up her hands like it was amazing and she was awestruck. "It was a trick question. You had to go to him and say he was the only person smarter than himself to get the clue." She beamed.

"Wow, boss." Tony shook his head, at a loss for words.

Ziva faced Gibbs and said, "I was not found out."

"You weren't," he agreed.

"They had the communist in they're alliance."

"They did."

"I won the game."

"You did."

"So," Ziva rubbed her hands together expectantly. "What is my prize? What do I win?"

Gibbs stood up and leaned across his desk to look down at her. "You, Ziva," he said. "You won the satisfaction of knowing that you're espionage skills are better than those other so called agents over there."

There was quiet protesting from the other players, but Ziva's was the loudest. "But I already knew that!" she said. "That is not really a prize at all!" She jumped to her feet as Gibbs started walking away, his back to her. "Gibbs, get back here! Gibbs! GIBBS!"

But he just smiled to himself and kept walking…


End file.
